The hardest conversations don’t need your answers

Someone you care about just lost something they can’t get back.

And you have no idea what to say.

So, you say something anyway.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“At least she isn’t suffering anymore.”

“I know how you feel.”

We mean well. We really do.

Most of what we say in grief isn’t for them. It’s for us. Their pain is uncomfortable, and words make us feel useful.

What Hospice Taught Me

For five years I worked as a grief counselor with hospice families. Before that, I spent decades as a pastor, sitting at bedsides and in living rooms after the funeral.

Here’s what those rooms taught me: Nobody ever thanked me for the perfect thing I said.

They thanked me for staying.

For sitting in the kitchen while the coffee went cold. For letting the silence run long. For not flinching at the angry thing, or the strange thing, or the thing they’d never told anyone.

Grief doesn’t need to be fixed. It needs company.

The Two Most Dangerous Words

“At least.”

At least you had her for 40 years. At least it was quick. At least there’s next season.

“At least” shrinks someone’s pain to a size we can handle. What the griever hears is: your pain is too big for me.

Drop those two words, and you’re already a better listener than most.

Coaches, You See This Too

The senior whose career ends with a torn ACL. The athlete who gets cut. The team that loses in the final.

That’s grief too. Same rules. Don’t rush to the comeback story.

Sit with them first.

What Helps

Say their person’s name. People stop saying it, and the griever notices. “Tell me about your dad” is one of the kindest sentences there is.

Let them repeat themselves. Grief tells the same story many times. That’s not being stuck. That’s processing.

Remember later. The cards and casseroles stop after two weeks. The grief doesn’t.

And if grief starts sounding like something heavier, Lesson #10 still applies. Presence first. Action when it’s needed.

The Practice

Think of someone who lost something this year.

Put a reminder on your calendar for a few weeks from now. When it pops up, reach out:

“I’ve been thinking about you. How are you doing with it?”

Then listen to the whole answer.

You won’t fix anything.

That was never the job.

Your turn: What’s the most helpful thing someone did for you while you were grieving? Tell me in the comments. I’m listening.

Tomorrow: “Listening Lesson #14: Work (Listening When There’s No Time)”

— Tom Lobaugh | tomlobaugh.com